What! will this penitence not move thee? Know There is a rose-lipp'd seraph sits on high, Who ever bends his holy ear to earth To mark the voice of penitence, to catch Her solemn sighs, to tune them to his harp, And echo them in harmonies divine
Up to the throne of grace. Ev'n Heav'n is won By penitence, and shall Heav'n's substitute, Shall Edgar scorn—
Edg. Cease, cease, thou beauteous pleader! Ah far too beauteous! Wouldst thou gain thy suit,
Why glows that vermeil lip? why rolls that eye Bright as the ray of morn? Why in each gesture Such inexpressive graces, but because They're native all, and will not be conceal'd? Else sure each charm betrays him, and becomes An advocate, whose silent eloquence
Pleads 'gainst thy voice, and foils its tuneful
Traitor was this the face which thy false tongue
Profan'd as vulgar? This such common beauty As the fair eye of day beheld each hour In ev'ry clime he lighted? Base dissembler, This instant quit our realm.
Elf. O stay thee, Edgar,
And once more hear me. At thy feet I fall As earnest, and distrest a supplicant, As e'er embrac'd the knees of majesty. O spare thy country's guardian, Edgar, spare Thy closest, surest friend. Let not one fault Cancel his thousand, thousand acts of faith. Alas! I fall to vainest repetition.
Grief, whelming grief, drowns all my faculties, And leaves me nought but tears. Edg. Rise, rise, Elfrida.
Elf. Shall he then live?
Edg. He shall, he shall, my fair.
If so he quit the realm within the space Our sentence limited.
Elf. O stop not there;
That sentence will be death to Athelwold. Think, for thou know'st full well his gentle nature,
Can he support the rigour of this doom?
Can he, who liv'd but in thy gracious smiles, Who'd pine, if chance those smiles a single hour Were dealt him thriftily; think, can he bear The infamy of exile?
Edg. Hear me, Athelwold.
Did I not show'r on thy much favour'd head My thickest honours, and with gift so ready As out-run all request? Did I not hold thee Still in such open confidence of friendship,
Edg. Yet give me hearing. I repeat not this To taunt or gall thee. On my soul, thy worth Did o'ertop all those honours, and thy zeal Kept pace with my best love. Nor till this deed-
But such a deed! look there, look on that face. Thou know'st me, Athelwold, hast seen me gaze On a soft yielding fair one, 'till mine eye Shot flames. Perdition seize me, if this heart Knew love 'till now.
Athel. I see it plain, my liege, Nor say I aught to lessen my offence. No, here I kneel, Oh! cast but on my mis'ry One kind forgiving glance; this ready sword Shall expiate all.
Elf. Ah! will you? must he die?
Edg. No, stay thee, Athelwold, and sheath thy sword;
I never yet (save but this hour of rage) Deem'd thee my subject. Thou wert still my. friend;
And, injur'd as I am, thou still art such: I do forego the word: to banish thee, Or seal thy death, transcends a friend's just right.
Elf. Ah generous deed! ah godlike goodness!
The king will pardon him. Wake each high note Of praise, and gratitude, teach Edgar's name To Harewood's furthest echo. O my sov❜reign! What words can speak my thanks-
Edg. Nay, check these transports, Lest, if I see thee thus, my soul forget Its milder purpose. I will leave thee, lady; Yet first my lips must press this gentle hand, And breathe one soft sigh of no common fervour. Now on, my lords-Fair wonder of thy sex, Adieu. We'll straight unto our realm of Mercia. Yet first, as was our purpose, through this forest, We'll chace the nimble roebuck; may the sport More please us, than we hope. Earl Athelwold, Thou too must join our train. Follow us straight. [Exeunt EDGAR, &c.
Athel. I do, my liege. Elfrida, I have much For thy lov'd car, and have but one farewell To tell it all-And yet
It may enrage. Farewell. Be sure, take heed I come not in your talk; avoid ev'n thinking; Check ev'n the sighs of absence. Haste, my earl, O haste thee, as thou lov'st thy constant wife. [Exit ATHEL.
ORGAR, ELFRIDA, CHORUS. Org. Thy constant wife! ah, stain of all thy
Degen'rate girl! Henceforth be Orgar deem'd Of soft, and dove-like temper, who could see A child of his stoop to such vile abasement, And yet forbore just wrath; forbore to draw That blood she had defil'd from her mean veins. But sure thou art not mine; some elve or faye Did spirit away my babe, and by curst charms
Org. What could'st thou hope, Elfrida? could'st thou think
I e'er would pardon his vile perfidy, Or thine ignoble softness?
Elf. Dearest father,
Frown not thus sternly on me. I would fain Touch your relenting soul, fain win your heart To fatherly forgiveness. For through life I've oft had pleasing proof how that forgiveness Stoop'd to my fond persuasion. But I fear Persuasion now has left me. My sad thoughts Are all on wing, all following Athelwold, Like unseen ministring spirits :-Pardon, sir, That frown shall check me, I'll not mention him; I will but plead for my own weakness, plead For that soft sympathy of soul, which you Deem base and servile. Base perhaps it might be, Were I of bolder sex. But I, alas!Ah pardon me, if nature stampt me woman; Gave me a heart soft, gentle, prone to pity, And very fearful. Fearful, sure with cause At this dread hour, when if one hapless word, One sigh break forth unbid, it may rekindle The monarch's rage-What has my phrenzy said? I've wander'd from my meaning. Dearest virgins, My rash tongue more inflames him. O assist me, Ye are not thus opprest with inward horror: Kneel, plead, persuade, convince
Cho. Alas, my mistress,
What may a servant's accents do t'appease This furious earl?
Org. Ye well may spare them: maidens, Know my firm soul's resolv'd, and be my heart As base as Athelwold's, if it foregoes The honest resolution. Think what I, What Britain suffers from this traitor's fraud: Had Edgar took my daughter to his bed, Our British line, which now is doom'd to sink In vile subjection, had again assum'd The pall of royalty, with half its power, In time perchance the whole. But this false Saxon Shall with his life repay me. Here I'll wait His first return, and in his own domain Give him fair combat. I have known the time When this good arm had hardihood enough For thrice his prowess. What is lost through age, My just cause shall supply; and he shall fall As did the traitor Oswald, whose bold tongue Defam'd me to king Athelstan: To the ground My sharp launce nail'd the caitiff. [Exit ORGAR. ELFRIDA, CHORUS.
Elf. Think, my lord,
Will Athelwold, will he enter those lists,
Where conquest would be parricide? Alas, He hears me not. Go, thou obdurate man. A daughter's tears will but the more provoke thee. I will not follow him. No, poor Elfrida! All thou canst do is here to stand, and weep, And feel that thou art wretched.
Cho. Dearest mistress, Restrain this flood of tears, perhaps- Elf. Perhaps!
Ah! mock me not with hopes.
Cho. We do not mean it:
For hope, though 'tis pale sorrow's only cordial, Has yet a dull and opiate quality, Enfeebling what it lulls. It suits not you; For, as we fear-
Elf. Do you too fear? Alas!
I flatter'd my poor soul that all its fears Were grief's distemper'd coinage, that my love Rais'd causeless apprehensions, and at length Edgar would quite forgive. I do bethink me, My joy broke forth too rashly. When they left us, His safety was not half secured; my pleading Was not half heard; I should have follow'd Edgar, Claim'd more full pardon, forc'd him to embrace My sorrowing lord.
Cho. We fear that sorrow more
Than Edgar's rage. We fear his fallen virtue. Self-condemnation works most strongly on him, Even to despondency. Even at his pardon, No joy flush'd on his cheek; we mark'd him well, He shew'd no sign of welcome. No, he took it As who should say, 'To give me aught but death Is a poor boon unwish'd and unaccepted.' Too much we fear he'll do some impious act- Elf. What, on his life? I thought I had ex-
Each various face of danger: this escap'd me. How miss'd I this? It suits his courage highly; Suits too his fix'd remorse.-But yet he will not, No, Athelwold, thou wilt not kill Elfrida.
Cho. O may his love preserve him: may these shades
Receive him soon in peace. To this blest end You sure should strive to calm your father's rage; At least not suffer him, as now, retir'd
To brood o'er his revenge. For know, Elfrida, Beneath the silent gloom of solitude Though peace can sit and smile; though meek
Edw. Then hear that worst, Elfrida. Soon as the stag had left yon westward thicket, The king dismiss'd his lords, each several ways, To their best sport, bidding earl Athelwold, Lord Ardulph, and myself, attend his person. Thus parted from the rest, the monarch pierc'd A darkling dell, which opened in a lawn Thick set with elm around. Suddenly here He turn'd his steed, and cried, "This place befits 'Our purpose well.'
Elf. Purpose! what purpose, Edwin? 'Twas predetermin'd then, dissembling tyrant! How could I trust, or hope
Edw. Yet give me hearing:
Thus with a grave composure, and calm eye, King Edgar spake. Now hear me, Athelwold; Thy king has pardon'd this thy trait'rous act: From all disloyal baseness to thy prince Thou stand'st absolv'd; yet, know, their still re- mains
Somewhat to cancel more. As man to man, As friend to friend, now, Athelwold, I call thee Straight to defend thy life with thy good sword. Nay, answer not; defend it gallantly. If thy arm prosper, this my dying tongue Shall pardon thee, and bless thee. If thou fall'st, Thy parting breath must to my right resign Elfrida's beauties. At the word, both drew, Both fought; but Athelwold's was ill-play'd pas-
He aim'd his falchion at the monarch's head, Only to leave his own brave breast defenceless. And on the instant Edgar's rapid sword Pierc'd my dear master's heart. He fell to earth, And, falling, cry'd, This wound atones for all. 'Edgar, thus full aveng'd, will pardon ms, And my true wife, with chaste, connubial tears, Embalm my memory.' He smil'd, and died. Elf. Nay, come not round me, virgins, nor support me.
I do not swoon, nor weep. I call not heaven To avenge my wretchedness. I do not wish This tyrant's hand may wither with cold palsies. No, I am very patient. Heav'n is just! And, when the measure of his crimes is full, Will bare its red right arm, and launce its light- nings.
'Till then, ye elements, rest: and thou, firm earth,
Ope not thy yawning jaws, but let this monster Stalk his due time on thine affrighted surface. Yes; let him still go on; still execute
savage purposes, and daily make More widows weep, as I do. Foolish eyes!
Why flow ye thus unbidden? What have tears
To do with grief like mine?
Cho. Help, help, my sisters,
To bear her to the castle.
ORGAR, ELFRIDA, EDWIN, CHORUS. Org. As I past,
Methought I heard a sound of loud lament; Elfrida, ah!
Elf. Is not my father there?
Withhold me not; I'll fall at his dear feet. O sir! behold your child thus lowly prostrate; Avenge her wrongs, avenge your poor Elfrida, Your helpless, widow'd daughter.
Org. Widow'd daughter!
What, is he slain?
Elf. Inhospitably butcher'd;
The tyrant's savage self-Stand you thus cool? Where is the British spirit, where the sire Of Belin's race?- foolishness of grief! Alas, I had forgot; had Edgar spar'd him, That sword, to which my madness call'd for ven. geance,
Ere long was meant to do the bloody deed, And make the murder parricide. Have I No friend to do me right?
Org. Thou hast, my child; I am thy friend, thy father. Trust my care. Edwin, a word. Retire, my dearest daughter: Virgins, conduct her in.
What do you do? I must not be withheld. I'll to yon bloody grove, and clasp my husband, My murder'd husband. Why restrain me, sir? Can my sad eye dart fire through his cold breast, And light up life anew?
Org. Go in, my child, And seek tranquillity. Elf. Tranquillity!
I know her well; she is Death's pale-ey'd sister; She's now in yonder grove closing the lids Of my poor Athelwold. That office done, She'll bear his soul upon her gentle plumes Up to the realms of joy. I'll follow them: I know he'd have it so: He'll not be blest, Ev'n on his throne of bliss, till I am with him. Cho. This way, my dearest mistress. Elf. Hold, nay hold;
Crowd not around me. Let me pause a while. Albina, thou alone shalt join my mis'ry; I've much to utter to thy friendly ear. Lead on, thou gentle maid; thy single arm Shall prop my trembling frame; thy single voice Speak peace to my afflictions.
[Exit with the principal virgin. ORGAR, EDWIN, SEMICHORUS. Org. On your lives,
Virgins, let no disturbing step approach her. Say, Edwin (for I guess 'twas you that brought These tidings hither) where was royal Edgar, When late you left him?
Edw. At my master's side, Repentant of the stroke. Org. Comes he not back To Harewood?
Semicho. Heav'n forbid! Elfrida's brain
Would madden at the sight.
Org. Mistake not, virgins;
I did not mean at this distressful hour The king should see my daughter. Semicho. No, for pity,
Do not profane this sabbath of her grief. O be her sorrow sacred!
Org. Fear not, virgins,
Her peace is my best care, and, to ensure it, I'll haste this instant, by young Edwin's guidance, To find the monarch. Some four miles from Harewood
Stands old Egbert's castle, my fast friend. With him will I persuade the king to sojourn, 'Till my child's grief abate; that too to speed Be it your business, virgins. Watching ever Each happy interval, when your soft tongues May hint his praises, 'till, by practice won, She bear their fuller blazon. Elfrida's welfare Requires this friendly office at your hands ; And Edgar's virtues bear such genuine lustre, That truth itself directs. [Exit ORGAR.
Semicho. As truth directs, So only shall we act. This day has shewn What dire effects await its violation.
Straight is the road of truth, and plain; And, though across the sacred way Ten thousand erring footsteps stray, 'Tis ours to walk direct,
And, with sage caution circumspect, Pace slowly through the solemn scene.
[The principal virgin returns. Semicho. Has Orgar left the grove? Semicho. He has, my sister.
Semicho. Then hear, and aid Elfrida's last re- solve,
Who takes the only way stern fate has left, To save her plighted faith for ever pure To her dead Athelwold.
Semicho. Forbid it, patience;
Forbid it, that submissive calm of soul, Which teaches meek-ey'd piety to smile Beneath the scourge of Heav'n.
Semicho. Ye need not fear it,
That angels from their thrones of light may hear, And ratify her vow.
ELFRIDA, CHORUS. ELFRIDA kneels, and the, virgins divide in two troops.
Semicho. Hear, angels, hear,
Hear from these nether thrones of light; And O! in golden characters record Each firm, immutable, immortal word. Then wing your solemn flight
Up to the heav'n of heav'ns, and there Hang the conspicuous tablet high, 'Mid the dread records of eternity.
Elf. Hear first, that Athelwold's sad widow
To rear a hallow'd convent o'er the place, Where stream'd his blood: there will she weep through life,
Immur'd with this chaste throng of virgins; there Each day shall six times hear her full-voic'd choir Chaunt the slow requiem o'er her martyr'd lord; There too, when midnight lours with awful gloom, She'll rise observant of the stated call Of waking grief, bear the dim livid taper Along the winding isles, and at the altar Kiss ev'ry pale shrine with her trembling lips, Press the cold stone with her bent knee, and call On sainted Athelwold.
Semicho. Hear, angels, hear,
Hear from these nether thrones of light; And O! in golden characters record Each firm, immutable, immortal word. Then wing your solemn flight
Up to the heav'n of heav'ns, and there Bang the conspicuous tablet high, 'Mid the dread records of eternity.
Elf. Hear next, that Athelwold's sad widow
Never to violate the holy vow
She to his truth first plighted; swears to bear The sober singleness of widowhood
To her cold grave. If from this chaste resolve She even in thought should swerve; if gaudy pomp, Or flatt'ring greatness e'er should tempt one wish To stray beyond this purpose; may that heav'n,
She means not self-destruction. Thanks to heav'n, Which hears this vow, punish its violation,
Huge and o'erbearing as her mis'ry is, It cannot so oblit'rate from her breast The written rule of duty. Her pure soul Means, on the instant, to devote itself To heav'n and holiness. Assist her straight, Lest Edgar's presence, and her father's rage, Prevent the blest intention. See, she comes. Kneel on each side, devoutly kneel around her; And breathe some pray'r in high and solemn strains,
As heav'nly justice ought.
Cho. Hear, angels, hear,
Hear from these nether thrones of light; And O! in golden characters record Each firm, immutable, immortal word. Then wing your solemn flight Up to the heav'n of heav'ns, and there Hang the conspicuous tablet high, 'Mid the dread records of eternity.
Chills the pale plain beneath him: mark yon altar, The dark stream brawling round its rugged base, These cliffs, these yawning caverns, this wide cir- cus,
Skirted with unhewn stone: they awe my soul, As if the very genius of the place Himself appear'd, and with terrific tread Stalk'd through his drear domain. And yet, my friends,
(If shapes like his be but the fancy's coinage) Surely there is a hidden power, that reigns 'Mid the lone majesty of untam'd nature, Controuling sober reason; tell me else, Why do these haunts of barb'rous superstition O'ercome me thus? I scorn them, yet they awe
Call forth the British princes: in this gloom I mean to school them to our enterprise.
Enter VELLINUS and ELIDURUS.
Ye pledges dear of Cartismandua's faith, Approach! and to mine uninstructed ear Explain this scene of horror.
The dramatic part of the Chorus is supposed to be chiefly spoken by the principal Druid; the lyrical part sung by the Bards.
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